Thirty Pieces of Silver
by Maeve of Winter
Summary: After discovering that he's a White Court vampire and having no choice but to subsist on sex to survive, Kevin has all but abandoned humanity, seeing mortals as little more than playthings. But after encountering a certain Southside Serpent, he decides it might be time to reconsider his views. Kevin/Joaquin.
1. Chapter 1

**Now**

The Jaguar hit him at full force—it certainly didn't help that he'd been running toward it—ramming into his waist and sending him flying through the air before landing smack against the asphalt. As soon as Kevin hit the ground he knew he should get the hell out of the way at the first opportunity. But he foolishly ignored the impulse, instead taking a moment to try to catch his breath, trying to get back the wind that had been knocked out of him by the impact.

Which was a mistake, because before he knew it, the Jag was backing up and then speeding toward him again, and, as the first and then second pair of tires crushed down on his chest and ankles, Kevin could confirm once again that getting hit by a car really fucking hurt.

But being a White Court vampire, a fairly well-fed one at that, meant he could not only take a few hits, but also give more than he ever got.

He sprung up from the ground and, with a running leap, lunged forward as the car raced toward him again, using the hood as a ramp to launching himself. His own momentum, as well as the Jag's, brought him crashing through the windshield in a hailstorm of glass and vinyl fragments. He landed awkwardly, his head bouncing off the steering wheel as he came to sprawl partway across the passenger seat and the rest of the way on top of the driver, his head momentarily resting in the Black Court vampire's lap.

But only for an instant. On instinct, he was already moving away, throwing himself against the passenger side door, which proved wise when the vampire snarled and swiped at him with its ragged talons.

This fight wasn't Kevin's first tangle with the Black Court, and he was well-versed in their weaknesses. By the time the the other vampire was reaching for him a second time, he was already throwing holy water at it, though his aim was off—he targeted the face, but mostly hit the collarbone.

The vampire let out a piercing shriek as its skin hissed and sizzled, its already decaying flesh now bubbling away. And with it distracted, Kevin made his next move.

With the flask of holy water in his hand, Kevin threw himself at the vampire, slamming it against the driver's side door. Before it could recover, he was emptying the flask of onto its knees, and it let out another scream. The car careened wildly as the vampire let go of the wheel to grab at Kevin once more, this time scratching his face with its already bloodied claws.

Undeterred, Kevin managed to yank on the latch and then shove open the driver's side door. Without wasting any time, he pulled back, grabbing the wheel to both keep control of the car as well as anchor himself, and angled his legs so he could kick the vampire with both feet. Once, twice, again—he only struck it in the upper torso the first time, so he focused on the shoulders the second time and hit it there. Then on the third try, one of his boots managed to connect with its neck, knocking it partway from of the car, dangling with its legs inside and upper body outside.

Still keeping one hand on the wheel, Kevin seized the door handle and repeatedly brought back toward the car with as much force as he could, slamming it against the vampire's waist until it was successfully stunned. Then, pushing the door open, he shoved the vampire all the way out of the car and onto the street. Swinging himself into position behind the wheel, he yanked the door closed for a final time, spun the Jag around, and mashed his foot onto the gas pedal. The engine roared, and the car sped forward.

This time he was the one mowing another vampire down with a car.

He ran the car back and forth over it twice and had to stop himself from going for a third. Making sure the vampire was still trapped beneath the front passenger side tire, he exited and walked around the car toward it.

As he drew closer, he analyzed the vampire's form. The Black Court were living dead, humans killed for the explicit purpose of being turned. This particular vampire had previously been a very young woman, either of teenage or college years. As a vampire it was barely out of infancy, its face the blue-gray of a corpse and only slightly sunken, lividity marks still present. It scrabbled desperately at the ground, but with its already wounded legs pinned under the car, combined with the wounded shoulders and throat, it didn't have a chance of escape.

But as the moon emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the patch of lonely back country road where the vampire lay, Kevin faltered.

"B-Betty?" he gasped out.

Because it looked like her. The moonlight caught the now fading blond hair, and though the empty eyes, a milky white rather than blue, were distracting, it suddenly occurred to him that the features on its face looked very much like hers. Kevin's pulse raced as he realized it could be her, could be his former best friend.

The vampire only snarled, twisting and thrashing to no avail.

A hard knot tightening in his stomach, Kevin reached into the pocket of his combat jacket.

Well.

Even it was Betty—or, he corrected himself, had been—he still had a job to do.

As a final diversion, he emptied the last of his holy water onto that too-familiar face, not watching as its features were seared away. Instead, he withdrew his crucifix dagger from its sheath and, refusing to acknowledge the trembling in his hands, speared it deep into the vampire's defunct heart.

The vampire limply flopped back onto the road, thoroughly dead, and Kevin tried not to wonder if he'd just executed his former best friend.

Making a substantial effort to focus on nothing but fully completing his mission, Kevin started the car and backed up off of the now dead vampire. Then he grabbed the body by the neck, dragged it to the trunk, and tossed it inside.

But before he slammed the lid closed, he checked the vampire's inner arm for the long scar from the injury Betty had given herself back when they were in the second grade. The two of them had been playing with her dad's power tools despite being explicitly forbidden from doing so when she'd accidently hurt herself, needing fifty stitches from Dr. Patel to close the gash.

The scar wasn't there. This vampire hadn't been Betty.

Kevin refused to allow himself a sigh of relief. Instead, trying not to think of anything else, he just shifted to his next task: taking the car to the dropoff point.

* * *

 **Then**

Lara began training him in June, shortly after his Hunger first manifested. The Hunger was a time when his heritage became apparent and he needed to feed, needed to satiate the sudden all-consuming lust burning within him. And when he did, he transformed from a regular human being to a full White Court vampire, who sustained themselves on the energy of sex.

Kevin wasn't entirely sure how she found out about him—his father certainly never would have contacted her. Maybe she had known about him all along and was just biding her time. But regardless, at the point she appeared in his life, she was already maneuvering him to her liking.

"You don't bear the usual family resemblance," she observed, the words seeming at once blunt and gentle in her lovely, silken voice.

Kevin's face heated at that comment. Lara was beyond gorgeous, with immaculate alabaster skin, black hair that tumbled down her shoulders in glossy waves, and vivid eyes the grey of gathering stormclouds. She had a face that rendered models on magazine covers ugly by comparison and curves that easily could make each and every one of the women who had ever posed on the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated wonder why they had ever thought they could compete.

She didn't merely recognize beauty. She was the absolute pinnacle of beauty, sensuality, and desire, just embodied in human form.

She circled around Kevin with the smoothness of a practiced predator, studying his body and examining all the angles of his face as if he were livestock up for auction.

"However," she continued thoughtfully, "your form is nice enough."

If he bore any resemblance to Lara, it was in build. They were both tall and slim, with long legs and lean but evident muscles. But the way she moved, with an alluring fluidity and effortless grace, careless confidence and casual ownership of the lust she stirred in men and women alike, was something Kevin was sure he could never possess.

"Not to worry," Lara told him with a light, silvery laugh, her tone not precisely comforting, but nonetheless assuring in its certainty. "Once your Hunger fully awakens, you'll be able to bend mortals to your will without even bothering to touch them."

In the meantime, she piled materials onto him for learning different languages in addition to his German classes at school—French, Spanish, and Latin, but his top priority was Ancient Etruscan.

"The official language of the White Court," she informed him. "I'm not introducing you to any of the rest of the family just yet, darling, not as young as you are. After you master your Hunger, we'll see what's in store for you."

Even then, having only just met Lara, Kevin doubted she was the type to "wait and see" rather than plan for every possible scenario so she would be able to manipulate whatever outcome occurred to her full advantage. And later, he would be proven correct.

Once he began regularly feeding, fully embracing his heritage, she had his measurements taken and then sent an entirely new and extensive wardrobe to capitalize on his now enhanced appearance. All of the clothing was designer, and all of it tailored to suit him perfectly, ranging from formal attire to what seemed like clubwear ("Your body is an instrument, a weapon. Never hesitate to use it.").

Unsatisfied with his current extracurriculars (track, cross country, student government, and archery club), Lara assigned him tutors in art, music, and philosophy ("An uncultured life is a wasted one."), presented him with books by renowned authors like Sun Tzu and Machiavelli, and had him begin training in combat and weaponry. Next, she coached him on how to control his Hunger and how to manipulate his glamour, to use to both entice a room at large or turn a single individual into his willing puppet.

It was only when Lara deemed his training sufficient and asked him to run an errand for her which ended in Kevin slaughtering what he would later learn was some slow-witted ghoul that he realized nothing Lara had done for him was out of obligation to family.

It was about making an investment. And, it dawned on him as the ghoul died in front of him, its blood splattered all over a set of the new clothes he'd received, this errand was about testing his worth. She was checking to see if he was worth the continued attention, or if she should move on to better prospects and let him meet his end at the hands of the ghoul.

All of the missions Lara would give to him were tests, either one way or the other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Now**

After dropping of the car at the regular place, a mansion that was ostensibly a bed and breakfast but was really a front for Raith family operations, Kevin decided to stay out a while longer. He changed his clothing, selecting a pair of black leather pants and a soft white V-neck tee, both of which showcased his long, lithe form, and then called his father to let him know where he was.

His father answered on the third ring, and his voice, welcome and familiar, brought relief to wash over Kevin. It was like feeling the warmth of the sun on his face on the first nice spring day after a long, harsh winter. The past few months had been incredibly draining, a constant struggle through unknown territory, and Kevin was sure he would have been lost if he hadn't had his dad to lean on.

"I just finished up a meeting regarding the Unseelie Accords. I'll wait up for you," his dad said fondly.

"You don't need to do that," Kevin protested. "Don't stress because of me, Dad."

"I want to make sure you're all right after all of this." His father's tone was firm.

"Fine," Kevin conceded. "I'll be home by midnight."

"Take care," his father said, and they proceeded to exchange goodbyes.

Then Kevin went out to find food.

Lara had advised him on familiarizing himself with whatever club scene there was to be found in the the Riverdale area, telling him the continuous energy of the crowd was ideal for feeding, for luring mortals in.

Kevin had never been one for clubs, though. The crowded dancefloor, pounding music, and frantic atmosphere always made him feel claustrophobic. And even with beauty and allure he now held as a full-fledged White Court vampire, that hadn't changed. He preferred bars, the ones that allowed for privacy and anonymity. He was careful never to visit the same one too often, not to make himself a recognizable face at any of them, instead wanting to keep a low profile. He wasn't there to socialize; he was there to replenish himself.

The Whyte Wyrm was the quintessential dive bar, housing endless chipped surfaces, clouds of acrid tobacco smoke, and Riverdale's local gang, the Southside Serpents. But that was why Kevin liked it. He had a type that he found best for feeding: the really macho, aggressive sort of men, the ones who thought they were threatening, the ones who wanted to leave him with all sorts of bruises and bitemarks. The more they wanted to dominate him, the more they tried, the better he fed.

The Raith vampires of the White Court didn't sustain themselves on sex in itself—the act was only their favorite method of transfer. It was the attached energy that gave them strength; they fed on the lust, the desire, the mutually inclusive intimacy.

That was why they could increase and induce desire. The more someone wanted them, the more they were able to take.

Kevin was slow operator. He didn't like to be obvious in seeking his prey by strutting in with his glamour on full force, drawing every eye in the room. Instead, he kept his glamour at a low level, catching some attention but not the majority, settled at a corner table, ordered a drink, and let the men come to him.

He wasn't much for the chase, which disappointed Lara. He more enjoyed being chased, though sometimes he had to fight to remind himself of that. When he entered a crowded area with his Hunger awakened, all of the faces blended together into little more than blurry forms of energy. Energy for him to consume. Those were the time when he wanted to cast aside all caution and just feast on whatever person closest.

After all, they would enjoy the process.

But discipline was essential to his survival, to going unnoticed. So he needed to be patient and let the prey come to him.

It wasn't a long wait before someone approached his table, though Kevin hadn't expected this particular individual to show an interest.

"Well, well, well," FP Jones drawled "Look who's all grown up." He looked Kevin up and down as he took the seat across from him, not bothering to disguise his blatant lust.

"Mr. Jones," Kevin said neutrally, even as his heart began pounding. He normally just hooked up with strangers—he'd tried only once with someone he'd known, and the results had been disappointing, to say the least. "Good to see you."

"Yeah, nice to see you, too, kid. I mean it. God damn , you look good," FP said appreciatively.

Kevin knew that he did. The awakening of his Hunger had been nothing short of miraculous to his outward appearance. His hair had lightened to a gleaming wheat gold, and, at Lara's instruction, he wore it loose, free of any type of gel. His eyes had changed to a shade somewhere between blue and lilac, and his fair skin, pale and perfect, now held the same radiant moonlit glow as the other vampires of the Raith family. While he still didn't have Lara's sensuous, serpentine grace, he knew just how to put his slim body on display. Now he instinctively angled and arched to make everyone around him think of nothing but all they would sacrifice to be with him just once.

Still, he was reluctant to again feed from someone he knew, especially since this person was the father of a former friend of his.

But Kevin was tired, and he was well aware that he needed to revitalize himself soon.

So he easily slipped out of his seat and sauntered over to over FP, who reflexively leaned back in his chair to watch him move. Languidly draping himself across FP's lap, Kevin pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then his throat, before leaning down to nuzzle his face against his neck, knowing that even the slightest touch would drive the man wild.

"Why don't you take me upstairs, so you can see all of me?" he whispered breathily into FP's ear.

He could feel the vibrations of FP's throat as the other groaned in anticipation, as well as the man's erection as he grew hard in his jeans, and then FP briefly pushed him away and off of him so they both could stand. Without wasting any time, FP pulled him close once more, tightening his arm around Kevin's middle as he guided him towards the stairs with no hesitation.

They moved quickly—FP was eager, but then again, weren't they all? Without hesitating a moment, FP had steered him up the stairs and into a darkened room, not bothering to turn on the lights before pushing him down onto the bed.

"Gorgeous," FP murmured, cupping Kevin's head with a hand as he drew him into a solid kiss.

The hand at the nape of his neck suddenly prompted a memory to float to the front of his mind, and Kevin was brought back to the time when he was six and had taken a soccer ball straight to the face during a peewee game. Since Jughead was playing for the same team, FP had been there as well. He'd been the first parent to spot Kevin and his bloody nose and hadn't hesitated to pull Kevin off the field. Grabbing a handful of tissues and holding them to Kevin's face with one hand, he'd knelt down beside him and used the other hand to keep Kevin from leaning his head back. The whole time, FP talked him through the injury, reassuring him that everything would be all right, that he just needed to stay calm and listen to him. And even though Kevin had been hurt, he hadn't been scared, because there was a grown-up there to take care of him, to protect him if he needed.

Closing his eyes as FP climbed on top of him, Kevin made up his mind to pretend the touches on his neck weren't from empty lust he himself had fabricated, but from the same kind of genuine care, the same freely offered comfort.

* * *

 **Then**

Kevin didn't think of Lara as his mother. Not once, not ever.

Part of the reason was because he'd never felt any type of longing for a mother. His father had raised him on his own, fulfilling the roles of both parents and never once complaining, even though Kevin realized once he was older that raising any child, but particularly himself, was an exhausting task to complete entirely on one's own. But Tom Keller had seen that Kevin never wanted for anything, either tangible or intangible, and certainly not affection. Kevin may not have had a mother, but he had a father, and Kevin loved him with every single fiber of his being, and he more than knew that love was returned. They were each other's entire family and happy for it; there were no empty gaps, no missing pieces. "Mother" simply wasn't a role in Kevin's life that he'd ever thought required fulfillment.

But moreover, Lara was not motherly in the slightest. It just wasn't her style. Every action of hers was carefully calculated, every word she ever spoke to him was pre-planned in order to push him toward one desired path, every thought that included him focused on how she could use him for her own purposes. There was never any genuine affection or unselfish motivations where he was concerned. Nothing she did was to help him or take care of him; it was ultimately all grooming him to help her both in the near and far future.

It was a strange disconnect, though. She was supplying him with clothing, teaching him how to function with his new physiology, instructing him on tasks in need of completion, and rewarding him when he was successful. She soon supplied him with a car as well, the latest Audi model in black, for when the missions required transportation.

She was acting similar to how a parent would, at least on a surface level. And yet, there was always a distance, one that felt almost professional and certainly deliberate, on Lara's behalf.

"I can't be with you very frequently," she'd told him outright after informing him she would be managing his training. "My father relies on me to handle the main aspects of our family's business dealings, so I can only visit you as relevant travel allows."

What she didn't say at the time, but would later become clear, was that she was also wary of someone tracking her visits and determining exactly who and what Kevin was to Lara. The Raiths had many enemies, some of which were within the family itself.

As time went on, Kevin's position in Lara's life was increasingly apparent: he was an asset, another one of her agents, but far away enough from the Raith family in Chicago that his actions could go unnoticed and unanswered for. With his association to the Raiths almost completely unknown, Lara could have him do as she pleased without being expected to explain herself, nor have the results at all tied back to her. Through him, Lara could violate truces, backtrack on bargains, and ignore promises. He was her unseen right hand man.

But he was not indispensable, nor was he her first priority. He was valuable to her, but certainly not priceless. At the end of the day, she would readily sacrifice him to save herself if she had the slightest inkling that was what the situation required.

And that was nothing like the only parent he'd had. Kevin knew beyond a doubt that his father would do anything to keep him safe, to take care of him. To think of Lara as a parent when he knew she'd sell him down the river to save her own skin went against everything Kevin valued, everything he'd been taught. He didn't want Lara as a mother; he was perfectly fine with her being a distant mentor.

Kevin would die to protect his father. His father would die to protect him. Lara would kill either one of them or both in half a second to protect herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Now**

FP collapsed back onto the bed the moment sex was over, no doubt exhausted. Kevin didn't blame him considering the substantial effort he'd put forth, giving Kevin all that he had and more. It had felt good in a way Kevin didn't usually associate with feeding. Normally, he just considered it a necessity for survival and nothing more, taking no pleasure in it beyond the physical process. But his time with FP . . . that was something that seemed more real than most, and he wouldn't mind coming back for an encore sometime.

He gathered his clothes and donned them, and had almost left the room before he turned back and pressed kiss to FP's cheek. The man had been good to him, and Kevin promised himself he wouldn't forget it.

Then he made his way back to the first floor, idly wishing he'd kept his jacket on he could stuff his hands into the pockets. The hour wasn't late, only just past eleven, and the bar was filling with the midnight crowd, rendering the atmosphere a touch too claustrophobic for Kevin's tastes. It was a relief to walk out the front door and down the down the front steps.

There were a few clusters of people lingering outside, and though several glanced at him too many times, sizing him up, Kevin wasn't afraid of any of them. With his recent feeding and the training Lara had given him, he could take any of them on. Hell, if he just directed his glamour their way, made them think of nothing else but how hot he was, he could end any conflict before it began.

At first, no one approached him, and Kevin thought he'd be able to reach his car in peace, but then one of the members split off from a group just as he turned his back.

"Hey," the guy called to him. "Hey, you, preppie! Wait up!"

Already on alert, Kevin turned back to him, evaluating the newcomer for potential threats.

He was slightly shorter than Kevin, but built similarly, though maybe not quite as slender and with a touch more muscle. He was young and had dark hair that he wore longer than was typical, blue eyes, and a leather jacket with the Southside Serpents emblem. The way he held himself was relaxed and casual but not overly so; he wasn't looking for a fight or a hookup, just conversation. The latter was a rarity these days.

" 'Preppie'?" Kevin repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"You telling me you're not a Northside kid slumming it for the night?" The stranger challenged, but his tone wasn't confrontational. "I can pick out all of you the instant you walk into the bar. Saw you go up the stairs with FP, by the way." He cast Kevin a shrewd look. "You two a regular thing?"

Kevin wasn't in a talkative mood. Right then he just wanted to go home."What's it to you?"

The stranger didn't seem put off by his lack of enthusiasm. "Because if you aren't, I'd like for the two of us to get together sometime."

Oh . Kevin shouldn't have been as surprised as he first was. It was just some other guy looking for a good time. Well, he'd already fed, but he supposed he could go for dessert.

"If you have a car, we can get it on right now," he informed the stranger.

The guy blinked, taking a moment to absorb what he said. "What? I—no. Listen, I screwed this up. Let me start over. My name's Joaquin DeSantos, and I'd like to take you to dinner sometime. If that's okay." He extended his hand.

Hmm. Kevin shook his hand even as the wheels in his mind whirred, trying to process this situation. He was accustomed to inspiring lust and all sorts of lewd invitations from strangers, as well as promises to give him the sun and stars if even if he wouldn't join them in bed. Raiths had a way of making people want to move the earth for them, either one way or the other. But a simple dinner date? He had never actually been asked to one of them.

It was probably just his glamour affecting Joaquin in a different way than most, he reminded himself. This interest wasn't real.

And yet, he still found himself accepting. "I'm Kevin Keller. And I'd love to go to dinner sometime."

Joaquin's eyes widened almost imperceptibly; Kevin wouldn't have noticed the reaction if he hadn't been looking for one.

"Keller?" Joaquin repeated. "Any relation to Sheriff Keller?"

"My father," Kevin told him with a smile. "Also, he's the man who has first priority in my life." He held out his phone to Joaquin. "You can add your number—if you still want that dinner date."

Joaquin squared his shoulders. "Hell yeah, I do. Here, give me your number, too." He passed Kevin his phone.

Covertly eyeing Joaquin while punching in the digits, Kevin wondered about his motives. Maybe Joaquin was trying to be a honeypot and use Kevin as source of information for the Southside Serpents.

Or maybe he wasn't a Serpent or even human at all—maybe he was some other creature entirely and trying to get in close to him to figure out his connection to Lara. Maybe he already knew.

But whatever the case was, Kevin couldn't let his guard down around him just yet.

So he gave Joaquin his standard smile when they traded phones back, not projecting the slightest bit of glamour at him, and lifted a hand in farewell.

"I've got to get going," he told him. "But I'll be seeing you."

"You sure will be," Joaquin promised. He pointed a finger at Kevin. "Remember. Dinner date."

"I'm looking forward to it," Kevin said, and he was stunned to find out it was the truth.

It had been a while since he'd really socialized with anyone, especially since he was no longer friends with Betty, Archie, or Jughead. Going to a restaurant and having a good time sounded like a welcome change.

It could be a setup, Kevin reminded himself, a trap from either someone supernatural or just plain old mortal.

Still, happiness persisted through his wariness, and he found himself grinning. He'd been invited on an actual date. Not a hookup, not a one night stand, but an actual date .

Maybe, just maybe, something in his life was going to go right.

* * *

 **Then**

Kevin's life had changed enormously since his first Hunger, but the first time he truly comprehended just how much was different when he returned to school. Due to working out his own issues, he started his sophomore year nearly a month after the rest of his classmates.

His dad had helped him clear the path, writing him an excuse and supplying him with a doctor's note that said he'd been out with mono, when really Lara had been teaching him how to control his newfound vampire urges. He'd also obtained permission for Kevin to participate in cross country again despite missing the preseason and then the regular season of the program.

But really, Kevin wouldn't have needed any of the papers. Because as one of the White Court, it was very, very easy to convince people to do whatever he wanted.

A dazzling smile along with a heavy push of glamour had Ms. Ganesh willing to excuse him from all the history classwork and homework that he'd missed. A touch on Coach Clayton's shoulder had him writing Kevin a pass to the library instead of expecting him to attend class. And a caress of Assistant Principal Stanger's face (an admittedly bold move, but he didn't see why he should bother with subtlety when his vampire heritage already made everyone want him anyway) led him to forget about giving Kevin detention when he walked into the school building an hour late.

Even athletics no longer had any challenge. As long as he fed regularly, he was stronger and faster and had more stamina than any of his opponents. He could win his races without even trying.

And he could get anyone he wanted into bed with him.

His first day back, he was inundated with attention and enamorment from male and female students alike, and it wasn't necessarily limited to just the students, either. Kevin could understand why; after all, he was new and improved. Gone was the uncertain, gawky kid with overly-gelled mousy brown hair who dressed like an elderly professor right down to the actual loafers. In his place was a smooth operator with actual charm and confidence who wore clothing that emphasized his well-toned body and lithe build, someone capable of drawing people to him instead of sending them cringing away due to his awkwardness.

It was a welcome change, mostly.

But there was an inevitable downside to starting school so much later than everyone else: friendships had already formed and cliques had already been created, and he wasn't part of any of them. Betty Cooper, his best friend since childhood, had been befriended by fallen debutante Veronica Lodge. Together they'd joined the cheerleading squad, and now Betty divided her time between Veronica, cheerleading, and Jughead, who she had begun dating. And with his relationship with Betty and his excessive brooding, Jughead's schedule was also full. Likewise, Archie was now preoccupied with music and football. They were all too busy with their own activities to be particularly concerned with Kevin's absence or return. When Kevin returned, none of them had the time to hang out with him, or, apparently, any interest in doing so.

Kevin had the looks. He had sex appeal in spades: the allure, physique, and physical prowess. But it seemed that in order to get them, he'd had to trade his friends.

So, frustrated and lonely, he decided to use the power he had to do who he wanted: Moose Mason.

If he wasn't mistaken, Moose had been eyeing him up since the end of last school year, and Kevin even then had readily returned the interest. But there was a problem. Moose would never stray from his girlfriend Midge, who was also a friend of Kevin's and in student government with him.

But a few provocative poses and several heavy pushes of glamour later, Kevin had convinced Moose to come home with him after school. While Kevin wanted to be thrilled over the victory, trying to suppress the overwhelming guilt when he accepted proved to be a losing battle.

Feeding was feeding, Kevin tried to tell himself after cross country practice as he walked across the parking lot to Moose's battered pickup. It might have been wrong to chase after Moose when he was with Midge, but he needed to feed one way or the other. He would probably end up feeding from a married man or woman someday. He might as well get his first experience in cheating over with.

"Hey, Keller!" A voice called to him cheerfully, breaking Kevin out of his own pitiful self-justification. Moose was approaching him with a smile, his hair still damp from showering after football practice. "Need a ride?"

He had to smile at that—one of the reasons he'd always liked Moose was his generosity.

"That's about the idea," Kevin drawled as Moose walked up to him. He reached out and laid a hand on Moose's shoulder, drawing him closer as he directed his glamour at him. When he inhaled, he could smell Moose's pine-scented body wash. "I have desperate, desperate need."

He locked gazes with Moose, whose eyes clouded with lust as he stared at Kevin.

"Right," he said, licking his lips as if his mouth was suddenly dry. He visibly swallowed. "Right," he repeated.

"Terrific." Kevin smiled at him, ignoring the growing guilt in his stomach. "We can go to my place. My dad won't be home until late." He plucked the keys out of Moose's hands. "I'll drive."

Sex with Moose was fantastic, even accompanied by his growing guilt. There was an enormous amount of energy for Kevin to feed off of, and the more enthusiastic Moose got, the more there was to take. Kevin was alarmed to find himself unable or unwilling to stop the feeding, even when he knew he should, because of how welcome it felt, how revitalizing the process was.

When he finally managed to separate himself from Moose, he was gasping for breath and unable to speak.

At the sight of him, Moose broke out of his spell immediately. "Oh, dammit, are you okay? I'm sorry I was that rough with you. I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened to me . . ."

Kevin managed to find his voice. "It's fine. I'm okay. I guess I just wasn't expecting the, um, intensity of it."

He tried to grin, but Moose just looked at him with a worried frown, combing his fingers through his own hair.

"Look, this was a mistake," he said finally. "I shouldn't have done any of that to you, and I—" he shook his head. "Midge. I can't believe I did this to her." He rose from the bed and began gathering his clothes. "Kevin, this is never going to happen again, and I need you to keep it a secret that it happened at all." He sighed. "Oh, God. Why the hell did I do any of this?"

Seeing Moose's instant regret, Kevin could not help but feel the same way. Why had he thought feeding off of Moose would be a good idea? The action had served to do nothing but destroy the friendship they'd once had.

It was about sustenance, Kevin reminded himself. Sex was literally something he needed.

And because he needed it, he couldn't help but feel like the act was empty. He could use his influence to get whatever he wanted, get with whoever he wanted, but there was no meaning behind. No one was acting on genuine affection; they were responding to surface attraction in addition to his own manipulations.

He'd tried to ignore it. He'd wanted to pretend that Moose had chosen him, valued him over Midge.

But now, as Kevin watched Moose hurriedly grabbing and pulling on his clothes, he knew that Moose had already chosen Midge over him and always would.


	4. Chapter 4

**Then**

Kevin's life had changed enormously since his first Hunger, but the first time he truly comprehended just how much was different when he returned to school. Due to working out his own issues, he started his sophomore year nearly a month after the rest of his classmates.

His dad had helped him clear the path, writing him an excuse and supplying him with a doctor's note that said he'd been out with mono, when really Lara had been teaching him how to control his newfound vampire urges. He'd also obtained permission for Kevin to participate in cross country again despite missing the preseason and then the regular season of the program.

But really, Kevin wouldn't have needed any of the papers. Because as one of the White Court, it was very, very easy to convince people to do whatever he wanted.

A dazzling smile along with a heavy push of glamour had Ms. Ganesh willing to excuse him from all the history classwork and homework that he'd missed. A touch on Coach Clayton's shoulder had him writing Kevin a pass to the library instead of expecting him to attend class. And a caress of Assistant Principal Stanger's face (an admittedly bold move, but he didn't see why he should bother with subtlety when his vampire heritage already made everyone want him anyway) led him to forget about giving Kevin detention when he walked into the school building an hour late.

Even athletics no longer had any challenge. As long as he fed regularly, he was stronger and faster and had more stamina than any of his opponents. He could win his races without even trying.

And he could get anyone he wanted into bed with him.

His first day back, he was inundated with attention and enamorment from male and female students alike, and it wasn't necessarily limited to just the students, either. Kevin could understand why; after all, he was new and improved. Gone was the uncertain, gawky kid with overly-gelled mousy brown hair who dressed like an elderly professor right down to the actual loafers. In his place was a smooth operator with actual charm and confidence who wore clothing that emphasized his well-toned body and lithe build, someone capable of drawing people to him instead of sending them cringing away due to his awkwardness.

It was a welcome change, mostly.

But there was an inevitable downside to starting school so much later than everyone else: friendships had already formed and cliques had already been created, and he wasn't part of any of them. Betty Cooper, his best friend since childhood, had been befriended by fallen debutante Veronica Lodge. Together they'd joined the cheerleading squad, and now Betty divided her time between Veronica, cheerleading, and Jughead, who she had begun dating. And with his relationship with Betty and his excessive brooding, Jughead's schedule was also full. Likewise, Archie was now preoccupied with music and football. They were all too busy with their own activities to be particularly concerned with Kevin's absence or return. When Kevin returned, none of them had the time to hang out with him, or, apparently, any interest in doing so.

Kevin had the looks. He had sex appeal in spades: the allure, physique, and physical prowess. But it seemed that in order to get them, he'd had to trade his friends.

So, frustrated and lonely, he decided to use the power he had to do who he wanted: Moose Mason.

If he wasn't mistaken, Moose had been eyeing him up since the end of last school year, and Kevin even then had readily returned the interest. But there was a problem. Moose would never stray from his girlfriend Midge, who was also a friend of Kevin's and in student government with him.

But a few provocative poses and several heavy pushes of glamour later, Kevin had convinced Moose to come home with him after school. While Kevin wanted to be thrilled over the victory, trying to suppress the overwhelming guilt when he accepted proved to be a losing battle.

Feeding was feeding, Kevin tried to tell himself after cross country practice as he walked across the parking lot to Moose's battered pickup. It might have been wrong to chase after Moose when he was with Midge, but he needed to feed one way or the other. He would probably end up feeding from a married man or woman someday. He might as well get his first experience in cheating over with.

"Hey, Keller!" A voice called to him cheerfully, breaking Kevin out of his own pitiful self-justification. Moose was approaching him with a smile, his hair still damp from showering after football practice. "Need a ride?"

He had to smile at that—one of the reasons he'd always liked Moose was his generosity.

"That's about the idea," Kevin drawled as Moose walked up to him. He reached out and laid a hand on Moose's shoulder, drawing him closer as he directed his glamour at him. When he inhaled, he could smell Moose's pine-scented body wash. "I have desperate, desperate need."

He locked gazes with Moose, whose eyes clouded with lust as he stared at Kevin.

"Right," he said, licking his lips as if his mouth was suddenly dry. He visibly swallowed. "Right," he repeated.

"Terrific." Kevin smiled at him, ignoring the growing guilt in his stomach. "We can go to my place. My dad won't be home until late." He plucked the keys out of Moose's hands. "I'll drive."

Sex with Moose was fantastic, even accompanied by his growing guilt. There was an enormous amount of energy for Kevin to feed off of, and the more enthusiastic Moose got, the more there was to take. Kevin was alarmed to find himself unable or unwilling to stop the feeding, even when he knew he should, because of how welcome it felt, how revitalizing the process was.

When he finally managed to separate himself from Moose, he was gasping for breath and unable to speak.

At the sight of him, Moose broke out of his spell immediately. "Oh, dammit, are you okay? I'm sorry I was that rough with you. I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened to me . . ."

Kevin managed to find his voice. "It's fine. I'm okay. I guess I just wasn't expecting the, um, intensity of it."

He tried to grin, but Moose just looked at him with a worried frown, combing his fingers through his own hair.

"Look, this was a mistake," he said finally. "I shouldn't have done any of that to you, and I—" he shook his head. "Midge. I can't believe I did this to her." He rose from the bed and began gathering his clothes. "Kevin, this is never going to happen again, and I need you to keep it a secret that it happened at all." He sighed. "Oh, God. Why the hell did I do any of this?"

Seeing Moose's instant regret, Kevin could not help but feel the same way. Why had he thought feeding off of Moose would be a good idea? The action had served to do nothing but destroy the friendship they'd once had.

It was about sustenance, Kevin reminded himself. Sex was literally something he needed.

And because he needed it, he couldn't help but feel like the act was empty. He could use his influence to get whatever he wanted, get with whoever he wanted, but there was no meaning behind. No one was acting on genuine affection; they were responding to surface attraction in addition to his own manipulations.

He'd tried to ignore it. He'd wanted to pretend that Moose had chosen him, valued him over Midge.

But now, as Kevin watched Moose hurriedly grabbing and pulling on his clothes, he knew that Moose had already chosen Midge over him and always would.

* * *

 **Now**

True to his word, Kevin's father, Sheriff Tom Keller, was waiting up for him, sitting at the kitchen table and examining the homecrafted silver bullets he'd made for any flaw. He gave Kevin a smile as he walked in. The two of them had never looked much alike even before Kevin had changed into a vampire, but if there was one similarity to be found between himself and his father, it was their smile.

"Welcome home." Tom rose from the table to wrap Kevin in a warm hug, which Kevin returned gratefully.

No one else really touched him these days for reasons beyond combat or sex, and it was nice to have the contact, the physical comfort, and know that he had at least one person in his life who truly cared for him. It was a welcome shelter from the ongoing blizzard that was his life.

"How was your meeting?" Kevin asked when the embrace ended.

"Fine. About what I expected." Tom stood back and eyed Kevin critically. "You look worn out. Didn't you get a chance to have dinner?"

Kevin shook his head. "No. Between the job Lara sent me on and then feeding, I was too busy."

"Hmm," was Tom's only reply as he ushered Kevin into a chair and then walked over to the stove. He'd never explicitly said anything against Lara, but given how he'd never mentioned Kevin's mother or her family before Lara materialized, Kevin would gather his father tolerated her presence in his life as a necessary evil rather than actively approved of or welcomed her involvement.

Tom brought Kevin a bowl of thick chicken stew and a plate of freshly baked rolls. "Here. Eat up. You look dead on your feet."

Kevin accepted the food gratefully. As a vampire, he didn't have the human need for nutrition, only needing to eat for nourishment rather than vitamins. He could live off of Twizzlers for the rest of his life and fine, but he still appreciated someone taking the time to make him a home-cooked meal.

"Got hit on by one of the Serpents today," he told his father as he ate. "He asked if I wanted to go to dinner sometime, and I said yes."

Tom looked at him consideringly. "Do you think it was genuine?"

Kevin shrugged. "It would be nice if it was. I didn't get any sense of the supernatural from him. He asked me about FP Jones and I after seeing the two of us together, and he asked referred to FP by name, so I think that he was human, at least. As far as his motives go, it's anyone's guess."

"I suppose you could do worse than FP Jones," Tom said calmly. "What's this Serpent's name?"

"Joaquin DeSantos," Kevin replied, taking the final bite of his stew.

"DeSantos?" Tom thought for a moment. "A couple of speeding tickets, and he's been brought in for questioning, but we've never tied him to anything serious."

"Sounds like I could handle him in a fight should I ever need to," Kevin noted.

"I hope you never will. You could use someone in your life outside of the supernatural world," Tom said kindly.

Kevin cast him a quizzical glance. "You'd support me dating a gang member?"

"I'd support you having someone you could finally relax around," Tom replied. Gently, he brushed the hair back from Kevin's forehead. "I know the past few months have been an adjustment. You're under a lot of pressure, and you have to keep a lot of secrets. Having someone mundane in your life, someone who helps you forget about all of that, even for a little while, could be enormously helpful. Just to give you a temporary escape."

His father made a good point, one

Kevin hadn't really considered. Already, he realized with a sinking heart, he thought of humans as just food, not as individuals with whom he could form relationships. He had embraced his vampire side more than he'd thought.

"You really think it could happen?" he asked, the words grating in his throat. His pulse was pounding, and he suddenly was overcome by the need to seek reassurance from the only reliable figure in his life. "Me and a mortal?"

His father reached out and gripped his shoulder, giving Kevin a lone lifeline in the storm. "I think if anyone has that hope, it's you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Then**

Kevin first met his mother during his initial Hunger, but he didn't remember their introduction. He didn't remember most of that time; it seemed distant and unreal, like a half-recalled dream.

What he did remember was waking up in an unfamiliar bed, every inch of his body burning as if it had been lit aflame from the inside, overcome with an aching need so desperate that it was painful. But his eyes could barely focus, all of his limbs were sore, and the intense heat in his body left him exhausted and sluggish. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep, but the inferno raging beneath his skin prevented him from fully fading into unconsciousness.

As he lay in the bed that was most certainly not his own, he became vaguely aware that someone was there beside him. A small part of his mind was alarmed by this revelation, and he had the dim notion to leave, to get away from whoever it was, but his body was too overcome by weariness to be convinced to act.

For an indeterminate time they remained there beside each other until Kevin felt a hand cup his chin, tilting his face upwards. Blearily opening his eyes, he struggled through his haze but couldn't manage to discern the person in front of him. The scent the cologne that clung to the other person's skin was masculine, so it was likely a man, and the only detail of his features he could detect was a pair of green eyes, the color worn and faded like old dollar bills.

No words were spoken but there was a soft sound from the man, a heavy sigh. Then he let go of Kevin's face and, with a shift of the mattress, stood and left the bed.

Then Kevin must have fallen asleep, at least for a while, because when he came to cognizance once again, voices were conversing in furious, threatening tones.

"If you can't get your people under control, Raith, I will not hesitate to take action. You think you can violate the Accords without repercussions?" It was a masculine voice, angry but controlled.

"I can assure you that this situation will be handled immediately," a female voice replied, icy but incandescent. Kevin would later come to know this voice as Lara's. "Madeline's actions do not represent the House of Raith, but you are free to challenge her as an independent agent, should you wish."

The effort of concentrating on the voices was too much for Kevin, and they dwindled away as another fiery wave seized his body and it became a battle to get enough air inside his lungs.

The next time he regained awareness, someone was picking him up off the bed and lifting him into their arms, and by that point he had enough strength to struggle weakly, trying to resist.

A hand gently stroked his hair, and a warm and familiar voice spoke to him soothingly. "Relax, Kevin. It's all right. I'm here."

Relief coursed through Kevin as he recognized his father's voice. "D-D-Dad?" The word rasped so harshly out of his throat that it was barely decipherable.

"Yes, it's me." His father was beginning to walk, carrying Kevin with him. "Don't worry. You're safe now. You'll be safe with me. I promise."

There was an undercurrent of anger in his father's voice, but Kevin didn't have time to concentrate on it was he was seized by another intense, desperate ache, and he drifted off again.

* * *

 **Now**

After making dinner plans with Joaquin over text for Friday of the upcoming week, Kevin surprised himself by eagerly awaiting that night. All day in school he watched the clock, counting down the number of hours he had until classes ended, and then cross country practice couldn't finish quickly enough. Finally, he arrived back at his house to shower and freshen up before driving over meet Joaquin at the restaurant.

It was a nice feeling to be wanted, Kevin decided as he changed into the outfit he'd selected after painstakingly considering his choices. To not just be desired for sex, to sate someone's lust (even if he had directly inspired it), but for someone to want to actually spend time with him and talk to him. After a few months of just endlessly falling into bed with God knew how many men, it was refreshing to be approached by a guy just looking for dinner and conversation. Kevin was ready for that change.

Well, hopefully this date would provide it. However, Kevin hadn't completely put aside the idea that Joaquin could be an enemy in disguise, out to uncover information from either Lara or himself.

Before he left, Kevin scrutinized his reflection in the mirror one last time. He wore a thin V-neck sweater of deep crimson over a white collared shirt with the top two buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled up. His slim cut jeans were black, as were his lace-up leather dress boots. All of the clothing was tailored to highlight his slender, leanly muscled form, but considering all the effort he'd devoted to selecting his outfit, it really wasn't anything particularly special. It could have been sexier or dressier, he supposed, but given that he'd never been on a date before, he'd wanted to play it safe.

His first date. Heart thrumming with nervousness, it was a struggle to remain calm as he drove to the restaurant and then walked inside. What if he screwed this up? What if it turned out to be a disaster? He found himself close to wishing that Joaquin would turn out to be an undercover agent after all, if only so that he wouldn't have to feel bad about being too awkward.

Get it together, Keller , he scolded himself as the restaurant hostess led him out to the patio to Joaquin's table. It's just dinner. You've taken on ghouls and Red and Black Court Vampires. You can do this .

Joaquin grinned widely as Kevin joined him. "Hey, you made it! Nice place, huh?"

"It's great," Kevin replied honestly, looking around appreciatively.

The restaurant had a rustic design, with exposed stone walls, scrubbed wooden surfaces, and copper light fixtures. The patio had various outdoor standing heaters and fire pits so that diners could enjoy the autumn night without having to endure the chill. Since the restaurant was set back from the road, patrons also had plenty of privacy, a notion aided by by the brief stone walls that curved out from the exterior of the building to form alcoves around the tables.

"Thought you'd like it," Joaquin commented, leaning back in his seat. "It seemed like your style—low-key but classy. But I wasn't sure if you still preferred a diner scene."

Kevin paused, unsure of what Joaquin was insinuating. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Joaquin shrugged. "I used to see you at that Pop Tate's place all the time."

"I've been busy." His tone was more defensive than intentional, and seeing Joaquin's eyebrows rise, Kevin quickly softened his tone. "It's just been a hassle for me to keep up, with school and sports and everything. I don't have much free time these days."

"So, you're still in school, then?" Joaquin asked. "Thought you might have been, but I wasn't sure."

"I'm a sophomore at Riverdale," Kevin confirmed. "You?"

"Graduated from Southside High last year," Joaquin replied easily. "Can't say that I miss it."

"I won't, either, once I finish," Kevin said in commiseration. School bored him now there was no challenge to it, and with all that he was doing for Lara, the concerns of the clubs and committees with which he was involved seemed petty and ultimately pointless. The only purpose school served to him now was a feeding ground.

Joaquin scoffed. "A preppie like you? Aren't you the president of the student council or some shit? You've got it made!"

Kevin's suspicion was piqued. "You know about me being class president? How?"

"I heard you, Blondie, Red, and FP's kid planning your campaign last spring at Pop's every other day," Joaquin told him casually. "And then I was there when all of you went out for victory milkshakes once you won."

A burst of sadness surged through Kevin at the reminder. He hadn't wanted to talk about Pop Tate's, hadn't wanted to deal with the memories of all the times he spent there with Betty, Archie, and Jughead over the years. He didn't want to dwell on the friendships he no longer had.

Time to change the subject.

Kevin leaned forward, giving what he hoped was a flirty smile, dosing it with just the slightest push of glamour for help. "All right, DeSantos. You seem to know an awful lot about me. So why don't we talk about you?"

"Sure thing." Joaquin lounged back in his seat. "What do you want to know?"

Conversation flowed quite easily from that point forward, so much so that Kevin was surprised. He didn't even need to resort to his glamour for the remainder of the night. Kevin learned about Joaquin's family: his parents were dead and he lived with his older brother, but has a close relationship to his grandparents. He also discovered Joaquin's deepest passion: street racing and modifying cars to do it.

"So that's why my father's been giving you speeding tickets," Kevin remarked, amused.

Joaquin gave him a devilish smirk. "Hey, if you want, I can get behind the wheel sometime and show you everything I can do."

Before he realized what was happening, Kevin agreed. "I'll take you up on that," he said, and unexpectedly found the sentiment to be sincere.

After dinner, they ended up ordering dessert and then lingering over coffee. It wasn't until around ten o'clock that they left, splitting the bill and each giving generous tips, which helped cement Kevin's opinion that he'd enjoy going out with Joaquin again.

They left the restaurant together, walking out to the parking lot side by side.

"Any chance of getting this date to go on any longer?" Joaquin asked.

"You know they say about too much of a good thing," Kevin teased lightly. But he turned to look at Joaquin directly. "I had fun tonight, though. Thanks for taking me."

"Up for doing this again sometime?" While Joaquin offered him a cocky smile, Kevin detected a hint of insecurity in his pale blue eyes.

"I'd love to," he said, holding nothing back and again surprised by how forthright his response was. What was it about Joaquin that made him want to be so open, so honest? Maybe it was because Joaquin didn't seem to be affected by Kevin's appearance and allure as so many others were, but Kevin felt like he could respect Joaquin, could value him as something more than just a one-night stand.

"Would you, now?" Joaquin's tone was clearly an attempt at being laidback, but he couldn't quite disguise the happiness in his voice or on his face, and a thrill zipped through Kevin as he realized just how much Joaquin liked spending time with him .

"Same time next week?" Kevin invited him.

Joaquin shook his head. "Friday's out, but I can do Saturday. And since I'm picking the day, how about you pick the place?"

Kevin smiled at him. "Sounds good. I'll text you about it later."

Joaquin laughed softly. "Baby, I'll be up waiting all night for it."

In a split second decision, Kevin leaned in to give Joaquin a brief kiss on the lips, acting quickly before he could lose his nerve.

Joaquin looked stunned, clearly not expecting him to be so forward, and Kevin just shrugged and began walking to his car.

"That's something else for you to think about when you're lying awake tonight," he called to him with a wave, and turned away to hide to embarrassed grin stretching across his face.

This night had been everything he hadn't known he so desperately needed and wanted, Kevin decided as he drove home. He'd had fun. He'd connected with someone, building a type of rapport he hadn't managed to form in a long time. And not only had he liked that person, but that person liked Kevin in turn, even without his vampire glamour.

Simply put, being with Joaquin was a much-needed escape.


	6. Chapter 6

**Then**

The first time Kevin successfully killed a Red Court vampire, Lara took him out to lunch for a victory celebration. In hindsight, Kevin should have been more skeptical that someone like Lara, who wasn't wearing a single article of clothing that wasn't priced in the quadruple digits, wouldn't protest over going to a place as casual as Pop's. But he was more naïve then, which showed in his choice of conversation topics.

It was still in the early days of his training with Lara, and he hadn't fully comprehended their relationship—he didn't quite understand his position in her life and what she considered him to be.

Which was part of the reason why, after giving their orders to the waitress, Kevin took a deep breath and blurted out, "Do you think I could ever meet my mother?"

Lara did not quite freeze, but she stiffened, her eyes narrowing, and her face becoming remote. The changes were quick and subtle, but for someone as typically composed as Lara, she might as well have been screaming with rage.

Her tone, however, was carefully disinterested. "What a question." She fixed her gaze on him, expression unreadable, and he thought he might become lost in the stormy grey depths. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

Kevin shrugged uncomfortably, thrown by her refusal to answer the question directly. "I've always wondered about her. My dad never mentioned her, but now that, um, all of this—" he made a quick gesture at himself and then Lara, "—has happened, and we've meet each other, I was just wondering if I could ever . . ." he trailed off under the weight of Lara's unblinking stare and finished quite lamely. "Meet her."

A long and uncomfortable silence settled between them, and just as Kevin was about to offer an olive branch by apologizing for the request, Lara let out a throaty chuckle.

"I'm going to assume, then," she said, a sensuous smirk playing at the curve of her full lips, "that you don't remember when you first met her?"

Kevin blinked, embarrassment and confusion swelling within him. He had the unpleasant suspicion that Lara knew something he didn't, and it made him ill at ease.

"I don't," he admitted. "If it was during my Hunger, well, I don't remember most of that." It wouldn't have been at any other time, but Lara's unyielding gaze made him doubt himself, and he found his mind racing for any alternate explanation.

"Consider it a blessing," Lara informed him dismissively. "Especially not knowing your mother. You'd do well to forget all about her."

"Why?" Kevin persisted. "Why shouldn't I know her? At least give me her name."

The moment the words left his mouth, the bell above the door to the diner jingled, and three of Kevin's former friends walked in: Betty, Jughead, and Archie. Along with them was one-time rich girl Veronica Lodge. Kevin didn't really know much about her beyond that, judging by the amount of time the two of them spent together, she was apparently his replacement as Betty's best friend.

Still, he forced down his bitterness and gave a smile and wave to all of them; Archie spotted him and gave him a smile and wave in return before following the others to their booth.

"Friends of yours?" Lara inquired. Her tone was deceptively conversational.

"Yeah. Betty—the blonde girl—she's my best friend," Kevin told her, despite the increasing evidence Betty no longer returned the sentiment.

Amusement glinted in Lara's eyes, as if she were laughing at her own private joke. "Perhaps I've been remiss in not emphasizing this particular lesson, but I thought your months-long isolation from mortals would teach you just how unnecessary it is to hold affection for them. They're food, Kevin. At most, they're tools, implements for you to use to your advantage, but mostly, they exist so we can live off of them."

"But my friends—" Kevin began, but Lara interrupted.

"How much time have you spent with them since discovering what you are?" She asked, arching one perfect dark eyebrow. "More importantly, how much time have they made for you?"

Kevin was silent.

Lara nodded. "I thought so. There's a reason why the White Court prides itself on the appearance of cohesiveness, why the Raith family presents itself as a unit in spite of any internal conflicts. We cannot rely on mortals or outsiders, only each other."

"Is that why you've never let me meet anyone else from our family? Why no one from our family ever bothered to meet me before my Hunger?" Kevin challenged.

"Oh, but your mother thought of you," Lara told him, a poisonous sweetness in her voice. "Madeline, a dear cousin of mine, conceived you for the explicit purpose of covering her debts. The reason you were born onto this earth is because she ran afoul of the Fae and then promised them her child to save herself. So she seduced your father, the first man she encountered, mistaking him for a mortal. Had it not been for his intervention, she would have sold you to the Sidhe without a second thought."

Disbelief coursed through Kevin as he sat wordlessly, trying to absorb what Lara was telling him. His father had never spoken of his mother, telling him the topic was too painful, and Kevin had never pushed the issue. Of course, if what Lara said was the truth, no wonder his father had never told him.

"And then there's your first Hunger," Lara said idly, drumming her immaculately manicured nails on the tabletop. "Madeline had a grudge against a particular figure of middling power in Chicago. In an exceptionally limited display of insight, when she realized your Hunger was taking place, she arranged for the two of you to be in bed together. The first Hunger is almost inevitably fatal to the mortal it's shared with, and it's a practiced method of the White Court to dispose of our enemies by having our uninitiated use them to complete their transformation. After all, death is all but guaranteed."

Lara's voice hardened. "But the individual Madeline wanted dead was protected by an agreement of various parties, including the White Court and his organization. His death would have resulted in an outright war between our factions, all because of Madeline's petty spats. Her attempt to use you to kill him was selfish, reckless, and worst of all, sloppy—it would have been all too easy to trace the incident back to the White Court. However, her carelessness and transparency at least allowed me to intervene before your potential victim's people found you with him. And, on both an extraordinary and fortunate note, your coupling somehow didn't kill him."

Kevin's mouth went dry as he recalled the pair of money-green eyes that had coolly evaluated him as he lay helplessly in bed, unable to move.

"Who was it?" he croaked.

"No one you need to concern yourself with," Lara told him smoothly. "And neither is your mother. Her time in the House of Raith is rapidly coming to a close."

She reached out as though to caress his face, but the instant her skin touched his, she drew back sharply as if she'd been burned. For the briefest of moments Kevin thought he glimpsed confusion and then understanding on her face, but then both vanished before he could fully process the implications of her behavior.

"Let it be your first lesson in White Court politics," she said quietly. "Without fail, someone will be trying to maneuver you. You can't let yourself be prey to their manipulations. Or, for that matter, anyone else's." She inclined her head toward the booth where Betty, Veronica, Archie, and Jughead were sitting. "You value having connections with the mortals in your life. But the White Court is not designed to be involved with humans other than sustaining ourselves." With a swish of cloth, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a silk handkerchief, opening it to let a wedding ring drop onto the table and roll across the table toward Kevin.

"It's against our very nature," she said, again fixing her intense stare onto Kevin.

While he was unsure of what Lara was doing specifically, he had enough awareness to know she was trying to make some sort of point. She was a creature of calculation and caution, thus the best defense to whatever plot she had cooked up would just be to confront her outright.

Kevin threw a palm over the wedding band as it neared him, halting it flat on the table. Then he picked it up, offering it back to Lara.

For a fraction of a second, surprise flitted over her features, though it wasn't especially noticeable—a quirk of a brow, the parting of her dark lips—but it was definitely there.

Later, Kevin would reflect on that instant as the first time something involving him didn't go according to Lara's plan.

* * *

 **Now**

For their second date, Kevin decided to take Joaquin hiking.

"Hiking?" Joaquin questioned in disbelief when Kevin came by his apartment to pick him up. "This is your idea of romance? Just going out in the woods somewhere?"

Kevin rolled his eyes playfully. "You'll like it, you'll see. Eversgreen Forest is beautiful this time of year."

And it was, with a bright blue sky that was an exhilarating contrast to the rolling hills filled with red, orange, and gold trees, and the bright sun streaming through the gaps in the leaves to dapple the green grass with patches of warm light.

"Looks like a postcard or something," Joaquin remarked.

"See?" Kevin gave him a friendly jostle with his elbow. "Now will you admit that I've got good taste?"

"Shoot, I already knew that when you agreed to go out with me," Joaquin drawled, smirking.

At that Kevin let out a genuine laugh. Again, he couldn't help but muse how much he liked being with Joaquin, who was forthright and honest, holding nothing back. It was a welcome contrast to Lara, who always had something up her sleeve, and anyone from school, who, be it student or teacher, always fell all over themselves to impress him. Kevin appreciated that Joaquin expressed his thoughts and feelings openly; it made him feel comfortable, certain of himself.

"So, who are your people?" Joaquin asked him later on during their hike.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at him. "My 'people'?"

"Yeah. You know, your crowd." Joaquin pointed his thumb at his own chest. "I mean, I'm with the Serpents. That's not news. But who are you with?"

The question brought Betty, Archie, and Jughead to flash through his mind, and Kevin struggled to push down his bitterness.

"Well, you know about my father," he said, trying to keep his tone conversational. "My mom . . . isn't really around. Never has been."

"She a walkout?" Joaquin asked sympathetically.

"Something like that," Kevin answered without elaborating. It was easier than explaining both she and himself were vampires.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they continued up the trail, fallen leaves crunching underfoot, which was then broken by Joaquin.

"I used to see you hanging out at that one diner all the time with a few of your friends," Joaquin commented. "Those same three that were part of your student president campaign, or whatever that was. F.P.'s kid, that redheaded football player, and the blonde girl." He cast Kevin a sidelong glance. "Don't see you with them anymore, though."

"You might have noticed that they traded me in for a new model," Kevin snapped before he could think twice. Instantly, he was consumed by regret for letting his emotions show so readily.

But Joaquin took his retort in stride. "Oh, they ditched you for that Lodge chick? She does have a great pair of tits, I'll give you that." He slung an arm over Kevin's shoulders. "But I'd still choose you every time. Fuck fair-weather friends, man."

"No." Kevin drew in a deep breath. "It wasn't as simple as that." He decided to incorporate his cover about being sick into his explanation. After all, he had lied to everyone else, so why not Joaquin, too?

"I was away for the first part of the summer, and then out with mono for most of August and September," he said, the fabrication almost feeling natural on his tongue. "I wasn't there when school began. And my friends had their own lives, so they were off doing their own thing. By the time I came back a few weeks ago, everyone had already moved on. Welcoming me back didn't really rank on anyone's priority list."

"So you were left by your lonesome," Joaquin surmised. "Man, that sucks. I'm sorry that happened to you."

Kevin meet Joaquin's eyes and a part of himself he'd thought long gone was touched by the sincerity he saw there. He hadn't told anyone else of how he'd lost his friends, and it was a relief to receive sympathy now that he'd said the words out loud. But it also made him somewhat uncomfortable; he didn't enjoy being pitied, especially not for a situation so pathetic.

"Thanks, but it's a natural thing," he replied with a shrug. "People outgrow each other. Friends you make in elementary school aren't going to end up being your friends in high school. People change. It's simply the way of the world."

"Well, I still think they sound like a bunch of dicks," Joaquin declared. "You stick with your people. It's just something you do. I mean, fuck, you'd think F.P.'s kid would know about loyalty, at least."

"Like I said, it was a natural and expected thing for them to move on," Kevin replied, but he was inwardly pleased by Joaquin's outrage for him. "But you've noticed me for a while, then?"

"Yeah, my friend Toni likes the burgers at Pop's, so I used to go with her there every once in a while," Joaquin told him. "I noticed you last spring, but I wasn't sure if I'd get into trouble for dating a kid still in high school. But when I saw you at the Wyrm, I figured if you were old enough to be sneaking into bars, you were old enough for me."

"You wanted to ask me out back in the spring? " Kevin repeated, astounded. He cringed at the thought of the hideous bulky sweaters he used to wear, along with that awful gelled hairstyle. "Jesus God, why? "

"Uh, the normal reason?" Joaquin tossed him a quizzical glance. "Thought you were cute. Also, you have a great smile."

" 'Cute.' " Kevin scoffed. "I looked like an awkward dork. A walking male librarian fetish."

Joaquin waggled his eyebrows. "Hey, I'd be into it." But then he grew serious. "What can I say? I thought you looked good then. Not that you don't look amazing now," he hastened to add. "I mean, wow, you really grew up over the summer. But is it really that hard to believe I found you attractive then?"

"Yes," Kevin said bluntly. "No one was exactly rushing to ask me out then. Not that I can't see why, but it would have been nice to know that someone then wanted me in some way."

Joaquin halted on the trail, and Kevin followed suit.

"In that case," Joaquin said lowly, leaning in close, "I guess I'll just have to make up for lost time."

Despite it being far from his first kiss, Kevin's heart hammered in his chest as Joaquin closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against Kevin's own. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but then quickly became more intense, more passionate, and before Kevin knew what was happening, he had his arms wrapped around Joaquin and was holding him close, with Joaquin embracing him tightly in turn.

Maybe it was because he knew Joaquin wanted to be with him, to spend time with him, but for whatever reason, the kiss was immensely more satisfying, more real, than when he was simply hooking up with some guy out of necessity. The juxtaposition of the two was like comparing the Grand Canyon to some roadside ditch. In that moment with Joaquin, he felt invigorated, adrenaline pumping through his veins and his pulse racing, as if he were awakening from a long sleep and now ready to face the day.

Kevin pulled back, breathing hard, his skin tingling. Being with Joaquin—it was phenomenal in a way he'd never experienced before.

Joaquin grinned at him. "Good for you, too, then?"

Again, Kevin couldn't keep that ridiculous smile off of his face. He seemed to have that problem a lot around Joaquin.

"Fantastic," he replied sincerely.


	7. Chapter 7

**Then**

True to her word, just days after their lunch at the diner, Lara brought Madeline's time in the House of Raith, as well as anyplace else, to an abrupt close.

She was awaiting Kevin when he returned home from cross country practice one evening. He thought he was alone, as his father usually didn't arrive from the sheriff's station until later, so it was a shock to walk into the kitchen and find Lara standing there, her sleek white business suit a sharp contrast to the rustic decor of their hunting cabin-style home. She was leaning against the marble counter, polishing one of her kukri knifes, as if she were a member of the household rather than an intruder.

"Lara!" Kevin exclaimed, thrown by her unexpected appearance. Instantly, unease ebbed through him, and he studied her warily. "What are you doing here?"

"Besides proving that the security at your home is in dire need of improvement, you mean?" Lara cast him an unimpressed glance, then pointed with the kukri at a tufted satin box that sat on the table. "I couldn't help but recall your interest in meeting your mother, and thus I decided to bring you something of hers."

A note in her voice put Kevin on edge, and he hesitated as he glanced at the box. An awful feeling was washing over him at Lara's uncharacteristic behavior.

"Go ahead." There was a tinge of viciousness in Lara's smile. "Open it."

Dread coiling in his stomach, Kevin approached the box cautiously, and slowly lifted its lid, his mind spinning with suspicions in regards to the possible contents. And when he looked down at the inside, a moment passed before he realized exactly what he was looking at: a woman's decapitated head.

Sickened, Kevin fumbled to put the lid back in place and turned to face Lara.

"Why?" he rasped.

Lara's features were perfectly relaxed, but her eyes were flinty. "Madeline sold out her family for her own gain. Truthfully, I'd predicted long ago that she would eventually betray us. With her lack of foresight or even intelligence, it was almost inevitable, so I planned her death accordingly."

Kevin could not speak; even if he'd had something to say, he seemed to have temporarily lost the ability to move his mouth. His hands were trembling, leading him to fold his arms over his chest in an attempt to give himself some support.

Lara gestured carelessly toward to the box. "Either consider it a warning or think of it as a blessing to know how highly I value the safety of the Raiths. But know this: I do not take kindly to those who would try to deceive me or put my family at risk. Your mother didn't consider the consequences of challenging me, and she suffered dearly for it." She fixed him with an unblinking stare, her eyes wide grey pools that seemed to pull him toward her. "Don't repeat her mistakes, Kevin."

"He won't," a new voice cut, and Kevin whirled around to find that his father had joined them.

Tom Keller meet Lara's gaze readily, looking at her with evident dislike. Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed the satin box off the table and roughly thrust it at her.

"Good of you to drop by, Lara," he said, his tone holding all the warmth of a nuclear winter. "But I'm going to cut this visit short."

As Kevin watched, Lara very briefly flinched when her fingers brushed against his father's to accept the box. The reaction occurred so quickly Kevin might not have noticed it if he hadn't been looking. But it was there, and as Lara swiftly slid her hand away from his father's Kevin thought he caught sight of blistering flesh.

"Let me walk you to your car," Tom said to her, and then turned to Kevin, his voice softening. "You stay here."

Lara let herself be escorted out by Tom, complying like cat that knew it could come back to kill the canary later. Kevin did as instructed and focused on making dinner for the next half hour until his father returned. The image of his mother's head in the box insistently flashed through his mind, but he kept trying to push it away and continue his normal routine.

He greeted Tom at the door with a cold beer, and returned to chopping vegetables as his father wordlessly walked to the stove and took over the dinner preparations there.

"I'm sorry," Tom said quietly, turning to look at Kevin. "I shouldn't have allowed her to become part of your life. But once your mother found you, I thought you could use all the protection you could get, so when Lara volunteered to teach you, I accepted." He sighed. "I knew Lara had her own angle, but I considered it worth the risks of engaging with the rest of the White Court in exchange for you understanding what you are. But I was a fool."

Without hesitation, Kevin crossed over to embrace his father, wrapping his arms around the solid, familiar figure.

"It's all right," he said sincerely, wanting to comfort the one person who had always cared for him. "I know you've been doing all that you can to help me."

For several minutes, he just clung to his father before asking, "Just before you left, what went on between you and Lara? I saw something happen to her fingers when she touched you."

Tom frowned. "Lara never told you?"

Kevin shook his head, puzzled.

"Each of family of the White Court has a weakness that's the opposite of whatever emotion that feeds them." Tom explained. "House Malvora feeds off of fear, so their weakness is true courage. House Skavis lives off of despair, so they're wounded by hope. And House Raith feeds from intimacy, so the touch of love burns their skin."

"Love?" Kevin repeated, remembering how Lara had only touched him once and then had moved away as quickly as possible. "But I'm not in love with anyone, and she still got hurt." He looked at his father. "Same thing with you."

Tom smiled softly. "It's not just romantic love that hurts them. Raiths are also vulnerable to love between friends or family as long as the love is both wholeheartedly given and returned."

His meaning dawned on Kevin, and he looked fondly at his father. "So, you're protecting me, then? That's why my skin burns her?"

"We're protecting each other, kiddo," Tom said, ruffling his hair. "It wouldn't work if it were one-sided."

"Wait a minute." Kevin recalled how Lara had presented him with the wedding ring during their lunch at Pop Tate's. "Lara had me hold this wedding ring one time. It didn't hurt me, but I think she expected it to."

Tom paused for several moments, and while Kevin saw the victory in his gaze, there was also something else he couldn't quite read.

"When you were born, I had hoped you would take after me rather than your mother," Tom said at last. "And when your Hunger surfaced, I thought those hopes were in vain. But now . . ." he looked at Kevin contemplatively. "I wonder if your inheritance from me somehow outweighs the weaknesses of the Raiths."

"You've never told me about what you are," Kevin prompted him gently.

"That's for another time," Tom replied, finishing with the saucepan he was stirring. "But keep in mind that the Raiths' aversion to love isn't just a physical weakness. It's an oversight that causes them to view mortals as nothing but pawns. If you can see past that idea, if you value mortals and the friendships you have with them, you'll have an advantage the rest of the Raiths never will."


	8. Chapter 8

**Now**

Joaquin invited him to the Whyte Wyrm to hang out on Saturday night.

"I'll be tied in up in business for the first part of the night, but I should be free around ten," he told Kevin.

"Then I'll be sure stop by," Kevin said with a smile. It still seemed to surreal to him that he'd found someone he wanted to be with and who wanted to be with him, but he absolutely treasured what he had with Joaquin.

Around nine o'clock he made the journey over to Southside, choosing to walk rather than drive. It wasn't a place where he spent a whole lot of time; Northside had everything Southside did, except for the higher crime. But he wanted a chance to be out in the open and get his bearings before going into a crowded bar and having to struggle to resist his urges for the rest of the night. Wanting to ensure he wasn't consumed by his instincts when he was with Joaquin, he made a point of feeding on the way, seducing some tall, dark, and handsome college student before continuing on his walk.

There was something freeing about being out at night, Kevin decided, enjoying the autumn chill in the air as his route took him past rows on rows of abandoned houses boarded up with and then a derelict industrial section with crumbling warehouses and grime streaking the dim windows. Especially since he had nothing to be afraid of.

Which was why, when he got within a block of the Whyte Wyrm and immediately noticed three figures emerge from the nearby shadows to follow him, he grinned in anticipation of a knock-down drag-out fight. It had been a while since Lara had sent him out on a mission, and Kevin was eager to have a chance to stretch his muscles.

So he stopped at the entrance of an alley just beyond a twenty-four hour laundromat, positioning himself so he remained in the darkness while they approached from under the light of the overhead awning. It allowed him to assess their features, their movements, and it only took a glance to determine they weren't anything supernatural, just run-of-the-mill thugs.

"Can I help you gentlemen tonight?" Kevin asked, standing at ease with his legs slightly apart and one hand on his hip.

"You sure can, sweetheart," one of the guys leered as the other two chuckled. "Care to tell us where a hot piece of ass like yourself is doing all alone out here? Seems like it could be a little . . . dangerous ."

He and the others continued closer and closer to Kevin until they were only a few feet away, and Kevin could sense the lust radiating off of the three of them.

Oh. This type of thing happened every so often: Raith vampires inspired such strong urges in mortals that their mere presence could draw out the baser human instincts, bringing them to throw aside all inhibitions. Usually, no one minded when it happened, as the Raiths got to feed and the humans got laid, and Kevin decided he wouldn't mind havings seconds tonight.

Taking several steps forward, Kevin put himself within arm's reach of the man, allowing him to grab him and pull him close if he so chose. These types of guys enjoyed to able to dominate their partner, manhandle them however they pleased, and Kevin would be lying if he said a part of him, more than just the vampire part, didn't enjoy it.

"Dangerous, huh?" he returned lowly, rolling his hips and fixing his gaze on the man's. "Would you protect me? If I did something for you in exchange?"

A slow grin split across the man's face as he began to reach out to pull Kevin toward him, but they were interrupted by an angry shout.

"HEY!" A figure sprinted up to them, her long pink hair, illuminated by the laundromat lights, streaming out behind her as she ran. "How many times do we have to tell you goddamn Ghoulies to stay off our turf?!"

The three guys moved to meet her, but she was too quick for the first one, driving her fist into his stomach and then kneeing him in the face once he doubled over. Knowing she might have trouble with the other two, Kevin wasted no time in grabbing the lapels of the one he'd been about to seduce and ramming his own forehead into his face—once, twice, and third time—before letting him fall to the ground. A few hard decks to the jaw of the last one remaining sent him down, too, leaving just Kevin and the pink-haired hair newcomer standing.

"Hey, you alright?" she asked, her dark eyes looking him over for any sign of injury. "Those assholes didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No, but I wonder if it would be a good idea to leave," Kevin noted, casting a glance at the girl's would-be assailants, who were now sprawled across the sidewalk, groaning.

"Let them try it," the girl said contemptuously, giving one of the men a swift kick in the ribs with her motorcycle boot. "These Ghoulies are in Serpent territory, and if they don't know that, I'll be happy to teach them."

Still, she hopped over them, walking in the direction of the Whyte Wyrm, and Kevin accompanied her.

"Thanks for the rescue," he said as he looked over the girl, wondering about her involvement. She had a tall, lean build, thin but with evident muscle, and she moved with a confident, businesslike stride. It wouldn't be a surprise to hear that fights were routine to her.

"No problem," she said. "You did an all right job yourself." She offered him her hand. "Toni Topaz, by the way."

"Kevin Keller," he introduced himself.

Toni grinned. "Joaquin's boyfriend? Nice to meet you. And to know you can handle a fight. Wouldn't want him dating some Northside wuss."

Boyfriend? That was news to Kevin. Still, he chuckled at Toni giving her approval of him based solely on his combat skills. "Don't worry about me when it comes to holding my own. I can take care of myself."

Toni slyly arched a pink eyebrow. "Then I guess the question is, can you take care of Joaquin?"

Kevin rolled his eyes at her as he yanked open the door to the Whyte Wyrm. "You might have run to my rescue,Topaz, but we're not at the point of heart-to-heart conversations just yet."

"Oh, don't mind me. I just like hassling people. I'm always looking for a fight either one way or the other." Toni hooked an arm over his shoulders and steered him toward a corner table.

"A girl after my own heart," Kevin commented dryly. He liked Toni, he decided. She reminded him of a tougher version of Betty. And besides, it was nice to have someone new to banter with.

Joaquin joined them just moments after they sat down at the table and raised an eyebrow when he spotted the arm Toni had looped around Kevin's shoulders.

"Stealing my guy, Toni?" he teased.

"Just protecting him," she returned. "I had to rescue him from some Ghoulies that he ran into on the way here."

"The Ghoulies?" Anger and alarm flashed over Joaquin's features, and he turned to Kevin with a worried frown. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"I'm fine," Kevin reassured him.

"He totally kicked their asses," Toni enthused. "So did I, naturally, but this guy right here?" She tapped Kevin on the shoulder. "He's a great fighter. Nice choice of boyfriend, Joaquin. Toni approves." She hopped up from the table. "Excuse me, gents. I need a beer."

Kevin grinned at Joaquin. " 'Boyfriend,' huh? I didn't know we were official."

"We aren't," Joaquin said quickly, but then immediately amended his statement. "I mean, not unless you want to be."

A warm feeling blossomed in Kevin's chest, and he found that the smile refused to leave his face. "Well, I wouldn't say no." His heart was pounding, both at the idea of becoming official with Joaquin and the implications of such a relationship. If he and Joaquin became exclusive, it would now be cheating every time Kevin fed from anyone else. And he and Joaquin had yet to even have sex.

"All right." Joaquin grinned at him. "Be my boyfriend then, Keller?"

"Happily," Kevin replied sincerely, giddiness fluttering in his stomach.

"Fuckin' A," Joaquin replied, satisfaction in his voice, and he shrugged off his Southside Serpents jacket and reached over to drape it across Kevin's shoulders.

Nonplussed, Kevin glanced at the jacket and then Joaquin. "What's this for, exactly? Does being your boyfriend make me an honorary member of the gang or something?"

Joaquin rolled his eyes at him. "I swear, Kev, you have all the romance of a sack of rocks. You're my boyfriend, so you wear my jacket. Like how girls in high school wear their boyfriends' letterman jackets. It's how relationships work."

"I've never seen that happen, and I go to a high school," Kevin informed him.

"Shut up," Joaquin said playfully. "Just wear my jacket and think about me when you do."

Then he leaned in to give Kevin a deep, intense kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

**Now**

The vampire lunged toward him, claws extended with its leathery bat-like face locked into a snarl, and Kevin just barely managed to dodge its attack and swipe at it with his kukri knife. But his blade made contact, biting into its stomach, and the vampire let out an animalistic howl of rage as it fell back.

Panting, Kevin tried to focus on his offense as he sized up his last remaining opponent. While he'd managed to kill four of the five Red Court vampires Lara had sent him to dispose of, he'd taken a few hits himself, and now his back, arms, and torso were all bleeding freely from bites and scratches.

He was exhausted and wounded; almost a week had passed since he'd last fed, and it showed in battle. He was slower and clumsier than usual, and he couldn't concentrate as well. He would need to feed well and feed soon. But first, he needed to end this fight.

Red Court vampires could appear human if they choose, but when they lost control of their bloodlust or were driven into a rage, their true faces showed through: human-sized black insectoid bats with superior strength and speed, with fangs and claws that could shred steel to ribbons.

But they had two primary weaknesses. The first was the traditional exposure to sunlight, and the second was their stomach. While Red Court vampires were empowered by the blood they drank, as it provided nourishment and energy and helped replenish them after being wounded. But if one could rip open the vampire's stomach and spill the blood they had consumed, the sudden deprivation would kill the vampire.

Kevin had executed the other Red Court vampires he'd battled in the same way. This one would be no different.

He waited for the vampire to rush at him again, and when it charged toward him, he threw open a bandanna of sunlight, magically preserved and tucked away for when he needed it. The vampire let out a piercing shriek as the the light burned its skin, and when it desperately reached up to cover its eyes, Kevin made his move. Raising his blade, he plunged it deep into the vampire's abdomen just below the breastbone, and sliced down to the navel, creating a gaping vertical gash.

The vampire screamed and tried to come at him again, but fell to the ground, blood gushing from the wound to pool on the grass as its body went into its final death throes. Watching distastefully, Kevin kept his kukri at the ready in case the vampire managed one last attack before dying. To his relief, the vampire stayed down, its twitching form going still. Once certain it was dead, Kevin extracted a flask of pure sunlight potion from the pocket of Joaquin's Serpents jacket that he wore, approached, and dumped the last of the contents onto the vampire's motionless body. The effect was instantaneous: the flesh the potion touched crumbled to ash, then spread outward, turning the entire corpse to dust.

Once the vampire was dissolved, Kevin plunged his hand into the pile of ash and took the prize Lara had sought: an athame and its scabbard, the purpose and importance of which she had not explained to him. Regardless, Kevin still made certain to retrieve the item for her. While he wasn't necessarily afraid of Lara, her decision to present him with Madeline's head only proved what he'd suspected since the day they'd met: it would be dangerous to have Lara as an enemy.

As he stood, he noticed that his blood, several shades too pale to be human, was dripping steadily onto the grass around him. His stomach churned with anxiety; it was becoming clear that going as long as he had without feeding was a poor decision. Now, he was left with a choice. He could either be unfaithful to Joaquin and feed from the first person he encountered, or go to Joaquin and feed from him.

Pressing a hand to the most prominently bleeding wound on his chest as he hurried to his Audi, Kevin weighed his options. He would probably freak Joaquin out by going to him looking like he did, covered in blood and grime.

But with a sinking heart, Kevin forced himself to face a truth he'd been ignoring since they'd begun dating: if he wanted his relationship with Joaquin to last, he needed to tell him about what he was.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin settled his aching body into the driver's seat and sent a quick text to Joaquin before twisting the key in the ignition. He had to reveal himself to Joaquin at some point, he reasoned, trying to calm his racing pulse. It might as well be now, so that if Joaquin rejected him, at least they could break up before Kevin was too invested.

Yeah, right , Kevin scoffed at himself as he followed the dirt road out of the forest and turned in the direction of Southside. He already was invested. These days, Joaquin was the only friend he had. Could he really take the risk of potentially estranging him?

Though he tried debating the issue with himself further as he drove to Joaquin's place, Kevin was too damn tired and hurt to carefully consider what was best. Besides, he'd lost all of his other friends. What was one more? By the time he parked and exited his car in the parking lot of the store that held the upstairs apartment where Joaquin lived, he'd committed to his choice. So what if Joaquin thought of him as a lunatic or a monster?

And yet, his father's words echoed in his mind: if you value mortals and the friendships you have with them, you'll have an advantage the rest of the Raiths never will.

An odd sensation filled Kevin, and suddenly he was overcome by the sensation that he was about to either burst out laughing or crying. But he merely clenched his jaw and climbed the stairs as fast as he could before pounding on the door with a closed fist, his Hunger growing nearer and nearer to the surface.

Footsteps approached, and then Joaquin swung open the door. "What the hell is the—oh, fuckin' hell." His eyes widened when he saw the state his boyfriend was in, and he hurriedly grabbed Kevin and pulled him inside. "Who did this to you? Was it the Ghoulies? Because if it was, I swear I'll hunt down those assholes, and—"

"No," Kevin interrupted. His throat was dry, and speaking was difficult. Doing anything but convincing Joaquin to take him to bed was difficult, and he could sense his need strengthening by the second. He was very aware of the sheer want coursing through his being. He needed to feed. He needed Joaquin.

Frowning worriedly, Joaquin took his arm and attempted to steer him into a chair. "You should sit down. And we should think about getting you to a hospital. It's not just the blood, Kev. You look like something's really wrong."

"It's not that," Kevin said, trying to force his Hunger back under control, but his breath was beginning to become ragged. Feed. He had to feed. The desperation of it was making him dizzy, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist very much longer. The more he held out, the more he might hurt Joaquin when he finally let Joaquin take him.

"You're hurt," Joaquin said firmly. "I'm going to call your dad for you, and then we're going to go to the hospital—"

Unable to keep fighting, Kevin grabbed Joaquin and kissed him hard, giving a heavy push of glamour to help him out. As their lips made contact, the deep craving inside of him was momentarily sated, but then roared again, its demands louder and more urgent than ever before.

When the two of them broke apart, Joaquin looked dazed for a few seconds, but then the expression faded, and he just seemed concerned again.

"Not that I'm complaining, but is this really the time for that?" he asked quizzically.

"It has to be," Kevin told him roughly. His instincts were screaming at him to use all of his glamour on Joaquin, to ensure that Joaquin gave him everything he had until Kevin himself was fully healed. And he was tired of trying to put them to rest.

"I need you to trust me on this," Kevin said lowly, struggling to give no hint of the war waging inside of him. "I'm going to take a shower, okay? And in five minutes, I want you to come and join me."

"Uhhh." Joaquin stared at him, open-mouthed. "Kevin, listen to me. Right now, you need a doctor. Sex in the shower can wait."

"But it can't." Despite Kevin's best efforts, urgency crept into his voice as he was flooded by the need to consume . "Just trust me on this, okay? Wait for five minutes, and then come into the shower with me."

Joaquin shook his head. "I don't—" he began, but Kevin ignored him.

Instead, he walked to the bathroom and shut the door before turning on the hot water and shedding his clothing as fast as possible. The wounded parts of his body seared with pain as he did, but he refused to focus on that. In a few minutes, all of his injuries would be healed, anyway.

Stepping under the hot spray did little to quell the rising urges inside of him, but the warm water still felt soothing on Kevin's sore muscles. Without wasting any time, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and lathered it into his hair and then rinsing it off, and then grasped the bar of soap and focused on washing away any blood or dirt, ignoring the sting of the suds going into his open cuts. Despite the all-encompassing need ensnaring every last inch of his body, it was comforting to be able to wash away the stresses of the day's events.

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and then the shower curtain pulled back as Joaquin joined him, completely nude. Had it been any other time, Kevin might have felt self-conscious or sentimental about being with his boyfriend for the first time, but now he was just overcome by the drive to feed, to restore himself.

It was selfish, he knew. But he was a Raith, and if he wanted to survive, this was the way it had to be.

Wordlessly, Joaquin reached out a hand and softly brushed his fingers near one of the many sets of bleeding scratch marks across Kevin's chest.

"What happened to you?" he whispered, looking at Kevin in worry and confusion.

"That's not important," Kevin told him. His vision was dimming at the edge, but whether it was from his Hunger or his injuries, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wanted Joaquin, he needed him, could think of nothing else but Joaquin giving him everything he had and more.

"Of course it is—" Joaquin started, but Kevin again cut him off with a kiss.

"Kiss me," he breathed, fire igniting beneath his skin at the contact. "Oh, God, Joaquin, just kiss me. Own me, please, _please_."

Joaquin complied, drawing him into a passionate, intense embrace, and as his Hunger bellowed, demanding it be quenched, Kevin's eyes could no longer focus. But it was no cause for concern; all he could care about at the moment was pleasure, _satisfaction_. His breathing grew more rapid, and so did Joaquin's, and as he spiraled down into darkness, the only thing that was important was that he would _finally_ feed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Now**

As Kevin gradually awakened, the first sensation he noticed was the energy flowing through his limbs, his skin tingling with renewal. He felt better, more alive, than he could remember in quite some time. A quick check told him that all of his wounds were gone without even leaving a single scar.

Looking around, he realized he was in his own room at the house he shared with his father, and he frowned in confusion, trying to recall exactly what had happened. The last memory he had was of going to Joaquin's apartment to feed from him and then being able to convince Joaquin to dominate him. But he couldn't remember what had transpired afterward. Did Joaquin know about him being a vampire? Was Joaquin okay? His heart began pounding, and dread coiled in his stomach. If he had totally lost control of his Hunger . . . if he had been wrong about how deeply he'd needed to feed . . .

Just as he was trying to remain calm, the door to his room opened, and his father entered, looking surprised but happy to find Kevin awake.

"Thought you'd be asleep longer," Tom said, sitting down the bed beside Kevin and drawing him into a tight hug. "But I'm certainly glad to see you're okay. And I'm betting the gang member camping out on our couch will be, too."

"Joaquin's here?" Kevin asked, giving his father a heartfelt squeeze before pulling back from the embrace. "He's all right?"

"He's fine," Tom reassured him. "He called me yesterday. Said you showed up at his apartment looking like hell and then you collapsed after," he paused briefly, "you two had an extremely intimate session together," he finished delicately. "So I brought you home, and he insisted on coming along."

Kevin let out a sigh of relief, but found himself panicking again. "Do he know about me being a vampire?"

"I provided a vague outline of your needs so he could have something of an explanation," Tom affirmed. "However, I decided it was up to you to reveal the specifics, if you so choose."

Letting out a long exhale, Kevin leaned back against the headboard. Could he really trust Joaquin? Could he take the risk of giving him the chance to reject him? Was it worth continuing a relationship if he had to live in fear of boyfriend pushing him away?

"What do you think I should do?" he asked his father helplessly.

"Right now? I think you should come downstairs for breakfast. You must be starving by now, and I made your favorite: blueberry pancakes." Tom tenderly brushed back Kevin's hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead before rising. "But as for Joaquin? I think you should give him a chance, Kevin. He was so worried about you that he refused to leave. I offered him one of our guest bedrooms, but he didn't want to take the chance of going to sleep in case you needed him. And any guy who cares about you as much as he does has my full approval." Tom sent him a smile before exiting the room. "I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt. You made a good choice with him."

The words and advice heartened Kevin slightly, though anxiety still rippled through him. Joaquin was the only other person he had in the world besides his father. He didn't want to lose him, but he also didn't want to delay the inevitable.

Rising, Kevin made his bed and then quickly dressed, donning a T-shirt with a flannel shirt worn open over it, jeans, and a pair of work boots. Sunlight streamed in through his bedroom windows; it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

Trepidation swelled within him as he made his way down the stairs, through the foyer, and down the hall into the kitchen. Upon entering, he barely had time to observe Joaquin sitting at the table before he was launching himself at Kevin for a rib-crushing hug.

"Thank Christ!" He breathed, clutching Kevin against him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be okay!" He pulled back, gently placing a hand on Kevin's chest. "Those gashes . . ."

"They're gone," Kevin told him, taking his hand and giving him a soft smile. Inside, though, he was torn between cheering and sighing. Joaquin's ready concern for him would make it all the more difficult if Joaquin decided to he no longer wanted to be with him.

Cupping his face with a hand, Joaquin gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leading him to a chair. "Come on. You need to eat."

"Agreed," Tom said, setting down a plate piled with pancakes, eggs, and fresh fruit before each of them. "And while you two enjoy your breakfast, I'm going to be watching the TV out on the sun porch. Feel free to take as long as you like." With an affectionate ruffle of Kevin's hair, he left the room, giving the young couple the chance for a private conversation.

Joaquin poured himself a glass of orange juice from the carton on the table. "So, your dad says sex is like . . .essential to you?" His tone was uncertain. "Like, you need it to survive?"

Here is was. Kevin had no choice but to admit the truth.

"Basically, yeah," he answered, looking down at his plate as he pushed eggs back and forth with his fork. "I'm a vampire," he said outright, not wanting to put it off any longer. "But I don't feed off of blood. I feed off of intimacy or sexual energy. So, when I got hurt, I came to you to feed."

There was a brief silence, and he forced himself to look up to see Joaquin's reaction, even as nervousness churned in his stomach.

But instead of throwing down his napkin and declaring him a freak or a lunatic, Joaquin was merely looking at him thoughtfully.

"You know, my grandfather had this story about his mother. In the village where she lived when she was young, there was always a fear of the Patasola , a vampire creature that would appear as a beautiful woman to lure people into the woods and then drain their blood. One night, my great-grandmother was walking home from a neighboring village and found herself chased by bandits. She ran through the woods to get away from them, and when she did, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen appeared out of the trees and scared the bandits away. Then the woman walked with my grandmother back to her village to make sure she was safe. After that, my great-grandmother never saw again.

"When she got married, she went to live in the village on the other side of the woods. And in all the time she spent in either village, she never heard of anyone getting their blood drained by a vampire. But she did hear of other times the beautiful woman appeared to protect villagers," Joaquin finished.

"There are vampires that do drink blood, though," Kevin pointed out, glad to have something to focus on other than his own nerves. "But don't worry. I kill them when I find them."

Joaquin scoffed playfully. "This is what I get for using a story to make my point, isn't it?" He reached across the table and gripped Kevin's shoulder. "I don't care about you being a vampire or needing sex to survive. You're still the same person you were when we began dating. And besides," he shrugged, "if you can accept me being part of a gang, I don't see why I can accept you being some type of succubus."

Kevin blinked. "So, you believe me about this vampire stuff? You don't think I'm crazy?"

"I watched all your injuries heal right away, Wolverine-style, the moment we were done having having sex," Joaquin pointed out. "There's enough evidence for me that you're telling the truth."

"And you're . . . all right with it?" Kevin asked hesitantly, barely daring to hope.

Joaquin shrugged. "I've got no problem with it. This doesn't change anything between us, not as far as I'm concerned.

Relief and happiness flooded Kevin as he absorbed Joaquin's words, his worries washing away. Joaquin still wanted him. In spite of everything, he still wanted him. He felt weak with relief.

Across the table, Joaquin studied him. "You were really stressed about this, weren't you?" he asked in concern.

" 'Was' is the keyword," Kevin replied, that damn dumb smile he always seemed to wear around Joaquin reappearing on his face. "Now, I'm goddamn ecstatic. I want to do something to celebrate." He looked at his boyfriend. "Want to make good on your promise to show me everything you can do with a car? We can drive off into the sunset together."

Joaquin grinned at him. "Eat your breakfast first. I have a feeling your dad won't let you out of the house if you don't."

Less than a half hour later, the two of them were zooming through Riverdale out towards the countryside. The weather was perfect, with a bright sun, a blue sky, and a slight breeze to prevent the day from growing too warm. The wind played in their hair as they sped along in Joaquin's vintage convertible, and Kevin took advantage of the bench seat to cuddle up close to Joaquin.

Just as they reached the last stoplight in the main part of town, they pulled up alongside an older pickup truck. In the bed of the truck sat Betty and Jughead, entwined with one another, and in the cab were Archie and Veronica.

Their cars were only next to each for a few seconds before the light changed to green and they went their separate ways, with Joaquin and Kevin going forward to get out to the country and the truck turning to go to a different part of town. But in that moment, Kevin impulsively lifted his hand and waved to the truck's occupants and couldn't help a smile when all four of them waved back to him.

Then they parted, with the convertible surging forward to blue skies and rolling green hills dotted with pumpkin patches. And then, with the warmth of the autumn sun on his face and his boyfriend's arm around his shoulders, Kevin felt an emotion unfold in his chest that he hadn't experienced for a long time: hope. Hope for himself, hope for he and Joaquin, and hope for the future.


End file.
